


Flirting With Disaster

by Chelle1117



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelle1117/pseuds/Chelle1117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent looked him over, eyes drifting over the broad shoulders, lean hips, gun holstered on the left side, feet crossed at the ankles. He'd accepted worse offers in seedier towns and had enjoyable experiences anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flirting With Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Awesome beta read by dirtyjersey2534 who spotted many word repetitions and used her bloody wordprocessor to improve the cracky nature of this fic. Hee! Any mistakes left are mine, and as always, feel free to let me know about them in comments. Also, Vincent and Doug are characters played by Joe Flanigan and Dylan Neal, respectively. Yanno, John and Dave Sheppard? So, um, yeah, this is still in the realm of SGA...sort of?

He could still taste the hot cocoa on his lips, feel her hair against the palm of his hand, smell her fresh floral perfume in every breath he took. The woman's voice, "Yes. Sixteen!" still reverberated in his head. _Sixteen_ for Christ's sake. How the hell could he not have known that? She talked the game, said the right words, moved in that certain way that spoke of experience, loose limbed and casually aware of her body in the way that experienced women tended to be. He'd thought that mien of innocence had been fabricated, a façade carefully crafted to reel him in. He should have seen through it, should have noticed the way she blushed bright pink when he touched her, the way she smiled, totally innocent and guileless despite the temptation of her words, her voice.

He banged his head against the wall behind him. _Stupid_.

Footsteps on the deck alerted him to a new presence. He opened his eyes. "Oh, great. I suppose you're here to...what? arrest me? Go ahead. Take me in, Officer..." he tried to read the name tag on the guy's uniform.

"Witter. Doug Witter," he said and gave a rueful smile. "I could do that, if you feel you deserved it."

Vincent groaned. "I just tried to seduce a sixteen year old girl. No, scratch that," he said, dry scrubbing his face. "I just tried to have sex with a sixteen year old girl on her grandmother's kitchen table. Don't they usually put guys like me _under_ the jail?"

"Yeah, about that. Jennifer and her grandmother aren't pressing charges. Jen explained that she hadn't told you her age and that up to that point, she'd been coming on kind of strong. She's shaken up; She got scared when you didn't listen to her when she said no, but," Doug leaned against the dock railing and crossed his arms, "she says it didn't go any further than a grope on the kitchen table. Now, you're here doing your best to give yourself a concussion to make up for it; I don't see a reason to pursue the issue."

"Thanks for that at least, and the benefit of the doubt." Vincent sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. "What made you come find me, then, if not to arrest me."

"Jen, actually," Doug replied.

"Okay. Why?"

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, Doug said, "She felt bad. Wanted to apologize."

"That's crazy, she didn't...god. She didn't do anything wrong."

"She's young," Doug said. "She thinks leading you on put her and you in a bad place. She wanted to say she was sorry for that, at least."

Vincent nodded, understanding. "But Grams wasn't going for it." Doug shook his head. "So they sent you."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. It could have been worse, all things considered."

Doug nodded. "True." He glanced over his shoulder into black of night over the water. Vincent eyed him, cautious. After a beat, he turned back to Vincent and spoke. "Look. I'm pretty sure it's been a long night for you; I know it has for me. This was my last call on shift. What do you say we grab a drink?"

Vincent looked him over, eyes drifting over the broad shoulders, lean hips, gun holstered on the left side, feet crossed at the ankles. He'd accepted worse offers in seedier towns and had enjoyable experiences anyway. He felt a smile sliding into place. "Sure, Officer Witter. A beer sounds great." He stood and held out his hand. "Name's Vincent, by the way."

Doug smiled and took his hand. His palm was warm and dry, fingers tight around Vincent's. "I know who you are."

Vincent nodded. "Right. Jen told you."

Doug shook his head, leaving Vincent to wonder how exactly he knew who he was, then looked down at their clasped hands. The hand shake had long been over, but neither of them had let go.

Vincent gave another quick squeeze of Doug's hand, then slowly released it, letting his fingers trail against his palm. He swallowed. "So. That drink?" He spared a moment to wonder how he could get a drink with a guy in a cop's uniform, and the doubt must have showed on his face, because Doug chuckled.

"Well, I have to swing by my place first. Get changed." He looked at Vincent, eyebrow arched. "It's a little outside of town, but you're welcome to come with," he said, leaving the question casual for anyone who may overhear, but the invitation was implicit.

"Yeah, sure." Vincent accepted.

The ride through town was quiet, neither of them speaking much. Vincent was a little uncomfortable. The front seat of a patrol car not what he would consider the ideal place for small talk. Occasionally Doug pointed out a place in the town, several of which Vincent had been to already, so he nodded, said, "Yeah, it was nice." But mostly they were silent. Then the lights of the town faded, and they were riding through the dark Massachusetts night.

Vincent turned slightly, leaned against the door and watched the amber light from the occasional streetlamp flow over Doug's face. The man was handsome in a classically northeastern, square jawed way. Vincent wondered how the skin over Doug's jaw would taste, how it would feel. Would it be smooth on his lips and tongue, or would the day's growth of stubble scratch a bit? Would the salt on his skin be from sweat or from the sea air? Would he moan under Vincent's mouth?

"What?" Doug's soft question broke the silence.

"What, what?"

"You're staring at me."

Vincent debated being honest. He narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously, do I have something on my face, or what?"

Yeah, honesty would work here. "I'm wondering how you're gonna taste."

Doug turned to him, eyes wide. "Jesus."

"Nope. Just a guy," Vincent responded, then reached over to run his finger over the curve of Doug's ear. There was a sharp intake of air, and Doug leaned into the touch.

"Two minutes," he said, "just two minutes to my house."

But Vincent had already started. He slid across the seat, closer to Doug, and let the backs of his fingers drift over the man's cheek. Definitely some stubble. They curled under Doug's chin, and his thumb traced Doug's lips, tugging at the bottom one until his mouth opened. He slipped his thumb inside and smiled when Doug closed his teeth around it and bit.

He hissed a breath, sliding closer still.

Doug sucked a kiss onto his thumb, and Vincent swallowed, pulling his thumb out of Doug's mouth to slide his hand over the other side of his face and into his hair.

"Eyes on the road," he whispered into Doug's ear, then sucked his earlobe into his mouth.

"Oh, my god," Doug huffed out, and the roar of the engine flared a moment, and Vincent felt the car speed up.

"Careful," Vincent whispered, his lips ghosting along Doug's stubbled jaw, nipping little kisses along the sharp edge of bone.

The car turned, and the hiss of asphalt under the tires gave way to the crunch of seashells. Doug shoved the car into park and turned. "Fuck," he whispered, just before closing his mouth over Vincent's.

The kiss was hard and desperate, all wide open mouths and sliding tongues. Vincent surged into the kiss, nearly climbing into Doug's lap, but the steering wheel blocked him. He grunted in frustration, biting at Doug's lips and pulling the man closer.

Doug's hands rifled through his hair, fisting closed and pulling at him to get to his neck.

"Ah, yeah," he said when he felt teeth scraping over his throat. He tried to lie back, pulling Doug with him, but the seat belt was in the way. He clicked it open, and grinned when it hissed in the track, brushing over Doug's face and hair, leaving him growling.

"Shit," Doug hissed, and shoved the harness off his shoulder. "I'm too old to go at it in the damn car."

He shoved his door open and climbed out, leaving Vincent a wreck on the front seat. He leaned over into the open doorway. "There's a perfectly good floor or couch or, hell, _bed_ about ten yards that way," he indicated over his shoulder.

Vincent looked out beyond him to the house. "Think we can make it?"

Doug held his hand out to help Vincent out of the car. "We can try," he said.

And it was a valiant effort. They didn't touch but for their hands all the way up to the porch. By then, Vincent had had too much of staring at Doug's ass as he hurried through the high grass. Once up on the porch, Vincent let go of Doug's hand, turned him around and slammed him into the door, closing the distance between them with a hissed breath. "Here," he said against Doug's mouth, and started tugging at the uniform shirt.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Doug breathed and made quick work of his belt and holster, then his slacks were falling down around his feet. "Dammit," he said, toeing off his shoes.

Vincent pushed his shirt down over his shoulders, confounded by black canvas and Velcro. "What the fuck?" he groused.

"Vest," Doug answered, and tugged at the fastening straps, then yanked the vest over his head, dropping it with a heavy thunk on the wooden floor. Short work, and his t-shirt was gone too, leaving just glistening skin.

Vincent swallowed. "Jesus."

"You, now, too many clothes," Doug said, reaching for the hem of Vincent's shirt.

Vincent lifted his arms and let Doug undress him. He toed off his own shoes, and went to work on the fastening of his jeans.

"Let me," Doug whispered, and Vincent's hands fell away. He watched Doug's fingers maneuver his button fly, then slide beneath the denim and the cotton of his boxers, to brush against his hard length.

"Oh yes," he moaned and let his head fall back. Doug latched onto his exposed throat, teeth biting gently at his skin igniting a fire of need in Vincent's belly.

Vincent reached up and tugged Doug's mouth off of his neck to cover it with his own, nipping at his lips. "Want you," he growled into the kiss.

"Yeah," Doug agreed, and pushed Vincent's jeans down over his hips and thighs, then used his foot to shove them lower, and Vincent stepped out of them and into Doug's space. Doug wrapped one arm around Vincent's waist, his other hand closing around Vincent's dick, his thumb swiping through the moisture at its tip. Vincent shuddered and arched into the caress.

"You want this?" Doug asked, his breath hot in Vincent's ear. "Here?"

"Yes," he breathed, "Please."

Doug pulled his hand off Vincent's cock, brought it to his mouth and licked the moisture from his thumb. "God," he groaned, "you're gonna taste good." He gave Vincent a quick, rough kiss and turned, shoving Vincent against the door. Another kiss, deeper and hotter than the previous, then he dropped out of Vincent's sight.

He didn't go far. Doug's mouth was hot and wet along Vincent's stomach, kissing a path through the smattering of hair around his navel, then he buried his nose in Vincent's pubic hair, breathing deep. The stubble on his jaw was rough on the sensitive skin of Vincent's dick, but then there was wet warmth and a soft tongue licking away the sting.

"Oh, god," Vincent muttered. His head fell back, knocking against the door. Doug chuckled, a soft huff of breath against his skin, then swallowed him deeper into his mouth. "Yeah, suck me," he murmured, twining his fingers into Doug's hair to push and pull at his head. He looked down at the man between his legs, eyes closed, mouth wide on his cock, and he thrust his hips forward, fucking into Doug's talented mouth.

Doug's hands slid up his thighs, one over his hip to splay open on his chest, sharp fingernails scratching at his skin. The other holding Vincent still, pressing his hips back against the door. The noises coming from deep in his throat, little choked off sounds of pleasure, pushed at the edges of Vincent's restraint. And the things, the amazing things this man did with his tongue, his lips. Vincent was beyond control, the world fell away until it was just them, the sounds Doug made, and the sweet wet suction of his mouth.

He lost track of time, but it couldn't have been more than moments later when Doug slid a hand between his legs, behind his balls. A finger, slick with spit, circled his hole and pushed. It was too much, Vincent shuddered and bent over the man in front of him, on the verge of coming. "I'm...gonna...Oh, god," he muttered. Doug "hmmed" around his cock, and his thighs shook violently. Doug pushed his finger in deeper, finding and stroking his prostate, and Vincent came, his vision going black, his breath rushing out in a grunted, "Jesus, fuck."

Doug pulled off, mouth open and eyes closed as Vincent came all over his face. When the worst of the spasm was over, he licked the tip of Vincent's softening cock, gently stroking it until Vincent shuddered and pulled away. Doug smiled up at him, wet lips glistening, his face a painted mask of lust and sin. Vincent wiped his thumb through the mess on Doug's face, and held it to his lips. Doug sucked his finger into his mouth, licked it clean.

"So fuckin' hot," Vincent muttered, and leaned in for a kiss, getting a taste of himself on his thumb as he pulled it from Doug's mouth.

"Want to fuck you," Doug whispered, lips moving against Vincent's.

"Yeah." Vincent swallowed and rested his forehead against Doug's. "Yeah, okay." And they grabbed the clothes at their feet and stood, Vincent loose and shaking from his orgasm, Doug tense and on edge, still hard.

Doug rifled through his pockets for his keys, and stepped closer to Vincent, pushing him back against the door. He slid his key into the lock as he closed his mouth over Vincent's. Finally, the door swung open and they were inside, fumbling toward the sofa.

Doug shook his head, turned them toward the hallway. "No," he said, "Want you spread out on my bed. Every gorgeous inch of you open to me."

It took a while to get to the bedroom. Doug bent him over the back of a chair, and took his time to lick and kiss a path down Vincent's spine until he was on his knees. He nipped at the swell of Vincent's ass, careful bites meant to enflame. Then he kept going, his palms spreading Vincent's cheeks, his tongue snaking down the cleft of his ass, stroking his tongue against Vincent's opening.

"Holy fuck," Vincent groaned, and pushed back onto Doug's tongue. His spent cock gave a twitch of renewed interest as Doug pushed his slick hot tongue into him over and over, turning him inside out with lust. "Never gonna make it to the bedroom," he muttered.

Doug pulled back and gave his ass a solid smack, then kissed the sting away. "Come on," he said and stood, pulling Vincent upright. They walked through the hall, Vincent's legs shaking, making him unsteady on his feet. He stumbled, and Doug pushed him up against the wall and thoroughly plundered his mouth.

They slid along the wall, attached at the mouth, hips, and thighs, then Doug pushed him through an open door. He pulled away and ran his hands all over Vincent's body, gently pushing him backwards.

Vincent's knees backed up against the bed. "Guess we made it," he whispered, leaning in for another bruising kiss.

Doug turned him around. "Lay down," he whispered.

Vincent looked over his shoulder, eyebrow arched.

"Go ahead," Doug said.

The bed was made, blankets soft beneath his knee, and Vincent moved to pull them down.

"Later. Just..." fingers ghosted down his spine, into the cleft of his ass to tease him. "God, please lay down."

He did. Climbing up onto his knees, he bent over and slid his hands over the softness of the covers, stretching he was lying flat on the bed. He spread his legs in invitation and looked over his shoulder again to smile. He watched as Doug's eyes traveled the length of his body.

"You're so fucking hot," Doug muttered, and lowered himself over Vincent, settling comfortably against his back.

He was hot and alive, and Vincent felt immersed in him, Doug's scent all around him, in the bedclothes, behind him, on his skin, in the air. He relaxed under the weight of a heavier body, letting it press him into the bed.

"Tell me you want it." The whispered words were hot in his ear.

Vincent shifted, rolled his hips until Doug's stiff cock was sliding into the crack of his ass. He sighed. "I want it."

"Again." Doug nipped at the skin below his ear, sucked up a mark.

A thrust of hardness between his cheeks made Vincent shudder. "Yes. I _want_ it," he groaned.

"Tell me what you want." A slow lick along the side of his throat, culminating in a ferocious bite to his jaw.

"Jesus, fuck." He shivered with want. "Want you to fuck me. Want you inside me."

"Say it again."

"Oh, god." He spread his legs further. "Fuck me...just, please. Need you in me." He was begging; he knew it, and he didn't care. He was beyond ready, almost craving it, like a man trapped at sea for too long, he was thirsty for it.

He heard the snick of a drawer opening and closing; the sharp corner of a foil packet scratched along his spine. Then Doug pulled him up onto his knees, his hand a firm pressure on his hip. Spit slick fingers spread him open, pushed into him, stretching him impossibly wide. Then there was the searing pressure of a cock sliding into him. He hissed. "Wait." It had been a long time since he'd allowed someone else inside him. He let out a breath, forcing his body to relax and allow the intrusion.

Doug slowed his entrance, traced his fingers up and down Vincent's back, the motion soporific, and Vincent's body finally gave way, and Doug pushed in all the way.

Neither of them moved for a moment. The room was silent but for the sound of their breath, harsh and rapid.

Doug leaned over him, pressed his forehead to sweat slick skin on Vincent's back. "You're so tight, so hot." He held Vincent's jaw, pushed his thumb into Vincent's mouth. "Get it wet," he said.

Vincent laved Doug's thumb, arched his back, pushed into Doug's hips. The movement made every nerve in his body sing.

Doug pulled out slowly; the friction against Vincent's hole burned, but then Doug circled the perimeter with his spit wet thumb and slid back in.

Doug was quiet behind him, breath slow and deliberate. Vincent pushed back into the burn, turned to look over his shoulder. Doug was staring at the shadowed place where they were joined. Vincent tightened around him, drawing his attention. When Doug looked up at him, he shivered and whispered, "Fuck me."

Doug quirked an eyebrow and started a slow rhythm. Vincent turned his head into the sheets, and moaned, pushing back into Doug's hips, matching his slow and steady pace.

Doug's hands were all over his skin, short nails scoring paths of intensity along his ribs and thighs. He felt Doug's mouth at his shoulder blade, and he hitched a breath when Doug sucked up a bit of skin and marked him. Little bites like that all along his spine, across his shoulders. He wasn't going to be able to go shirtless on the boat for a few days, but he didn't give a shit. Every sucked up mark sent him spiraling closer and closer to oblivion.

Doug pounded into him, the sweaty slap of skin against skin loud in the room. He grunted, guttural sounds of intense pleasure, and Vincent echoed them. A bit of movement, and Doug had shifted, brought his leg up, his foot flat on the bed now, and every thrust had him hitting Vincent's prostate.

Vincent's cock, half hard from the intense orgasm earlier stiffened. It's leaking tip slapping his belly with each of Doug's thrusts. He looked over his shoulder again, and Doug was gone, caught up in the pleasure, eyes closed, his face a contorted mask of ecstasy. Vincent wrapped his hand around his dick, and stroked himself in rhythm with Doug's thrusts.

Vincent was so close, he could feel the electric tingle of another orgasm curling up his spine. He groaned with it, shivering in anticipation. Then, Dough pulled out of him, his hand a pressure on Vincent's him. "Turn over, want to see your face."

"Vincent whined at the withdrawal, but turned over immediately, hitched up his legs and grabbed his knees, his abandoned cock lying stiff and swollen on his belly.

Doug bent down and took him into his mouth, sliding three fingers into Vincent's wide open hole and fucking him.

"Holy shit," Vincent groaned and came, flooding Doug's mouth and throat.

Doug swallowed what he could, then wiped his face against Vincent's thigh. "Yeah, fuck," he said, and pulled his fingers out of Vincent's twitching hole. He rocked back, lined himself up again and pushed back into Vincent. He took one of Vincent's legs and braced it against his chest, while settling around his waist. This time he wasn't slow or gentle. He set a hard pace, slamming into Vincent's loose body over and over again. Snatches of words floated into the room between wet slaps of skin, "So tight...fuck, so hot...want it, don't you?"

"Yes, god, fuck me," Vincent responded to the bitten out words. "Fill me up." He reached a hand out, fingers clasping at air, and Doug grabbed it, twined their fingers together.

"Yeah," he hissed, "Fuck, gonna,"

"Come on, yeah, come in me." Vincent pulled him in with the leg around his waist, and Doug slammed into him once more, and froze, his body shaking, head thrown back. A low growl of satisfaction rolled from his throat. "Oh, yeah."

Vincent ran his thumb over Doug's, their fingers still entwined, like their bodies. Doug opened his eyes, and smiled. Vincent pulled him down, his mouth open and ready for a kiss, and Doug obliged him, sinking his larger, solid body over Vincent's.

It was good, Vincent thought, Doug's weight on top of him, his softening cock still inside him. He relaxed back into the bed, wrapped his legs around Doug's waist.

Doug nuzzled his face into Vincent's neck and kissed his skin, mouth open, tongue licking. "God," he whispered. "That was so really, _really_ good."

Vincent wrapped his arms around Doug's ribs and squeezed. "I think so," he said, then let go, letting his legs drop carefully to the bed, the muscles of his thighs quivering with exertion. "I think you broke me."

Doug pulled out of him gently and slid down to lay on his side next to Vincent. "Nah. You're good," he said, pressing a kiss to Vincent's jaw.

Vincent sighed. Fighting the insistent pull of post orgasmic slumber, he turned his head and looked at the man next to him.

Doug's face was relaxed, eyes closed, mouth curved in a small smile. His hand rested on Vincent's chest, fingers curling and flexing in the soft hair of his chest. While Vincent watched, Doug drifted into sleep, his breath slowing down, evening out.

Vincent listened to him, and between one breath and the next, followed him.

  


  
  
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